


i fall apart

by flustraaa



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec lightwood centric, Anxious Alec Lightwood, Athlete Alec lightwood, Emotionally Hurt Alec Lightwood, Gen, Highschool AU, Internal monologue fic, Jock Alec Lightwood, Mental Health Issues, TW: Eating Disorder, Worried Jace Wayland, Worried Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: what’s a little less if it means you’ll be loved a little more?





	i fall apart

Alec’s never really gotten the whole food thing. Yeah, it’s fuel and sure you need it to live but what’s it beyond that, right? _Wrong_.

It’s a mean of expression and it’s a mean that leads only to robust and utter corpulentness. If he eats, he get fat, and that’s plain and simple as it is. He likes the way his stomach burns when he hasn’t eaten for long periods, and when his stomach isn’t he feels fire burn within in his skin.

He must be small to be loved, and that’s all he knows. When Magnus asks if he wants to go to dinner he tries his best to distract him, to prove that there’s nothing wrong with him. That he can eat whatever he wants like everyone else can. That he can be skinny without thinking about every number that goes into his body.

How does he begin to explain to his family and friends that the main reason he can do addition so quickly is because he does it every night as he decides what he can eat the next day while maintaining stability.

He’s getting better, he’s sure of that.

That is, until, he decides to tell someone he trusts and they say, “I mean, it could’ve been worse right? At least you ate, some people don’t.”

And then he’s spiralling again, and he doesn’t want to stop. He can’t stop. He needs to be skinny and he— as sick as it craves to be bad.

He finds his mind wandering for a moment— what if Joshua hadn’t said that he wasn’t bad.

Because yeah, he allowed himself two peanut butter and jellies and a small bowl of salad, but before that he’d run several miles and after he’d go train for his diving team for hours— circuits and free fall alike.

So, he supposes, instead of eating negative four hundred and eighty six calories, he’d be better if he ate negative eight hundred calories. And yeah, he’s always been able to put on muscle at maybe that’s why no one ever noticed.

And sometimes he’s grateful but sometimes it hurts like no other.

The affirmations, the “you’re looking great mate” amongst other complements and while it was incredible and encouraged him to take it further, sometimes he just wishes someone would see him— and when they did see him they wouldn’t tell him he needed to be better.

He just needed a “i see you im here for you.” And god he never got one of those.

His heart aches almost as much as his stomach, but he only enjoys one of those pains.

It’s only as he starts to get better that he’ll stumble across a picture of himself and he’ll lose his breath and suddenly he’s that scared too rotund boy to be loved sitting alone in his room staring at the sandwich his brother tries to force in him and suddenly he can’t breathe.

Or he’ll go from taking a warm shower to flipping the shower switch to freeze him to his very core, but what’s it to be freezing if he can burn a few extra calories from shivering? And what’s it matter if his vision turns black when he stands a little too fast? Or when he runs his fingers through his hair only to see clumps of once thick raven hair awaiting his fingertips.

But in truth, what is a little hunger? what’s a little hunger if it means he’ll be small and loved?


End file.
